


Hartstruck: An Alternate Ending

by SusieB (NoriandeR2006)



Category: Hart to Hart
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-01
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 21:02:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26225374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoriandeR2006/pseuds/SusieB
Summary: It's the episode ending all fans love to hate...so why not re-imagine how it should have gone?
Relationships: Jonathan Hart/Jennifer Hart
Comments: 4
Kudos: 3





	Hartstruck: An Alternate Ending

**Hartstruck: An Alternate Ending**

Jennifer raced for the door, half expecting to see Robin there with that very large butcher knife. Her panic grew as she reached the door and it wouldn’t open. Looking over her shoulder, she saw Robin coming down the stairs, the knife raised, and she struggled with the door, her fingers finally finding the lock and turning it.

********

Jonathan, still feeling groggy from whatever Robin had put in his wine, was glad the lieutenant was driving even though he could do nothing but sit there and worry about what was happening at home. They pulled up in front of the house at last, and he wasted no time getting out of the car; he could hear the door rattling, and it was flung open just as they reached it. Jennifer, her eyes full of tears, calling out in her panic, came running out, sobbing, and he caught her in his arms.

“Jonathan!” she cried, relief flooding her at finding him on the other side of the door. 

“Shh.” He closed his eyes and held her close, alarmed at the state she was in but also relieved that they’d arrived in time. What exactly had happened? He was aware of Lieutenant Draper and the other detective moving past them into the house, and opened his eyes to see them drawing their guns. Then he saw Robin standing on the stairs; she stopped when she saw him, her raised hand clutching a large butcher knife. There was a sad, crazed look on her face, a hint of uncertainty in her voice as she spoke. 

“Hello, Jonathan.”

Despite his desire to comfort Jennifer, protecting her from Robin was foremost in his mind. He never took his eyes off the woman on the stairs, who went on, “I’m sorry…dinner didn’t work out exactly as planned.”

Jonathan knew that he had to diffuse the situation before anyone got hurt, and he suspected that only he could achieve that aim. So he called out to the lieutenant to put the guns down, and as he moved into the house, he kept his arm around Jennifer, who was still sobbing against his shoulder.

“Stay put, Lieutenant.” Draper turned when Jonathan spoke, then backed toward them uncertainly, wondering what the man had in mind. Jonathan stepped away from Jennifer, staying between her and Robin, and moved toward the woman on the stairs; she’d descended the rest of the way down, her knife still raised.

Jennifer couldn’t speak; still shaking, her breath ragged, she just watched as her husband moved away from her, toward the crazy woman in the red dress.

“Why, Jonathan? We never even got to dance,” Robin said.

“There’s still time,” he said as he approached her cautiously, trying to appear understanding while barely containing his anger, and his all-too-recent fear – he knew what she was capable of, and what her intentions had been.

“Time?” she responded.

He nodded, saying, “Put down the knife. Put it down.”

He looked at her, his best poker face in place. Fortunately Robin saw only what she wanted to see and complied, the knife clattering on the floor when she dropped it. He stepped closer to her, kicking it away, then grasped her wrist firmly. He made no move now to dance with her, his gaze turning to steel as he called again to the lieutenant, who rushed this time to handcuff the woman’s wrists behind her back before she could react; the other officer’s gun didn’t waver from its mark until it was done. As they escorted her out of the house and to the patrol car, she called his name over and over, her voice pitiful one moment and filled with fury the next. But he was done with her; turning back to Jennifer, he took her into his arms again.

“Darling, are you all right?” he whispered in her ear.

She nodded mutely, not letting go of him. 

Lieutenant Draper returned to the door.

“Jonathan, Jennifer, we’re taking her in right away – she’s clearly not stable. And we’re gonna need statements from both of you, of course.”

Jennifer didn’t move to look over at the lieutenant, so Jonathan asked, “Can it wait until tomorrow?” 

Their eyes met; the lieutenant understood that Jonathan had something more important to take care of at the moment, something he knew the man felt acutely responsible for. He nodded, saying, “Yeah, I’ll take care of it.” He paused then said, “Jennifer, take care now.” It sounded lame to his ears, but he felt some responsibility as well for what had almost happened here, and along with it a need to say something - anything.

“We’ll be there in the morning, then,” Jonathan said.

The lieutenant turned to leave, closing the door behind him, and Jonathan went to lock the door and re-set the alarm. Then he turned back to his wife, taking in her tear-stained face as she finally, briefly met his gaze, and took another long, ragged breath.

“So it’s over then,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Yes, Darling, it’s over,” he said, returning to her side. He placed his hands on her shoulders, squeezing them gently. Thinking that her eyes still seemed a bit distant, he said, “C’mon over here,” and guided her to the couch, his arm around her waist. Then he went to the bar and poured her a brandy.

“Jennifer, drink this,” he said, returning to her side. She looked at him a bit blankly, and he knew he had to snap her out of it. He didn’t like that this had happened in their home, and worried that she’d been so terrified that she’d begun shutting down, going into shock. 

“Jennifer, Darling, please, drink the brandy,” he coaxed again, putting the snifter into her hands, folding her fingers around it. To his relief she focused on it then, and, her hands shaking a little, she took one sip, then another. He sat before her on the table, his hands caressing her knees, and watched closely as she finished the brandy. He could see the tension, the slight trembling in her body begin to ebb away as it worked its magic, warming her. He stood up and held his hand out to her.

“Come on,” he said with a smile that belied just a hint of the seriousness he felt. He had let her down...he had left her alone, to face the psychotic Robin on her own. He couldn’t relax until he knew she was feeling safe and sure of herself again - and of him. Taking her hand, he led her upstairs. 

Feeling exhausted now that the adrenalin was wearing off, Jennifer didn’t resist, thinking they were headed to bed. Once in their room, however, he guided her into the bathroom and drew a bath. She was still a bit dazed but could feel the brandy making its way throughout her body, relaxing her. She knew that it was his presence, even more than the brandy, that was easing her mind and calming her heart. She took a deep breath and released it. Hearing it, Jonathan felt relief wash over him again.

As he started the water, adding some bubble bath, she undressed and put her hair up in a clip. He took her hand as she got in, then shed his own clothes and got in behind her, wrapping his body around hers and easing her back to rest against his chest. With the touch of his skin, his body, against hers, and his arms wrapped tightly, comfortingly around her, Jennifer began to feel secure and safe again, and began letting go of the terror she’d experienced. They both closed their eyes and let the warm water soothe them and ease the tension that, knowingly or not, had sprung up between them in the last couple of days.

Despite the pleasant, relaxing warmth of the bath, Jonathan was concerned at her continued silence. But he just held her and waited, knowing she would open up to him when she was ready. Finally, he felt the light touch of her hands on his arms, still wrapped around her, and held in a sigh as she began to run her fingers back and forth along them.

“I thought you were going to dance with her,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

A little taken aback at her first words, he quickly assured her, “No way – not a chance.”

She smiled and was quiet for awhile, then admitted in a whisper, “Oh, Jonathan. I don’t think I’ve ever been so frightened in my life.” He sensed the tears coming to her eyes again.

“I know, Darling. I’m so sorry. I promised you that nothing would happen. I never imagined she knew about you, let alone where…” he paused, swallowing, “or that she’d be able to, to come after you. I should have…I should never have gone, I should never have left you alone.”

She sighed; she understood why he’d gone. He’d only done what he felt he had to, to get to the bottom of things, as he always did. But they were a team, and normally took things on together – and they weren’t usually at odds over the right course of action, like they had been this time. Something about it had made her uneasy from the start. 

Jonathan went on, admitting softly, “I was afraid, too. When the lieutenant woke me, and I realized she’d drugged me and had our address, I was, so afraid. Of what she might do, that I would be too late. That I might lose you, when, if I’d only heeded your wishes, your instincts, none of this would have happened.”

“You had no way of knowing any of that, Jonathan – please don’t blame yourself. Nothing that happened was your fault.” Jonathan felt a sting in his own eyes at her understanding, her forgiveness; he hadn’t wanted to think about it, nor realized how much he’d needed her absolution until she offered it freely.

“Well, I’m here and it’s all over now.”

She nodded, saying, “I know.”

At last he felt he could ask her to tell him about it, and so she did. She told him about the power failure, about realizing that Robin was in the house – and that she was calling from their other line. About throwing perfume in Robin’s eyes. And finally about her struggle at the door, when her fear and panic had at last threatened to overcome her. 

Jonathan wasn’t surprised to note that she’d actually handled it very well, and told her so. She’d been brave and had kept her wits about her. For all her panic at the end, he was certain that she would’ve gotten away, that she would have survived…all the same, he was glad he and the police had gotten there when they did, that Robin was safely in custody. They wouldn’t need to worry about her ever again.

“So are you okay?” he asked her.

“Yes, Darling - I am now. Are you?”

“Mhmm.”

Another silence fell between them, but it was an easy, comfortable one. Then, moving her head to his shoulder so she could see his face, she said, “Darling, this bath was a lovely idea - just what I needed, along with that brandy. But it’s getting a bit cold now, don’t you think?”

Nodding in agreement, he met her eyes and was happy to see them shining back at him with their usual sparkle – the fear, and the glazed look of shock, were gone; he saw nothing in them any longer to worry him. She seemed much restored to her usual, strong, confident self, for which he was very glad. 

Pulling the plug with his toes, he got out, grabbing towels and robes for them. They made their way arm in arm to bed, snuggling down together, where it was his intention to help her erase any images from her mind that didn’t belong in their home. She responded, needing him and knowing full well what he was up to; she wanted to reassure him, too, that everything was all right. And so it was, and they healed, and committed themselves to each other, yet again, as always, forever.


End file.
